I spend the next few hours in bed after waking, absently playing with the flowers’ petals. Although my mind is too numb to mark the passing of time, my stomach isn’t, its rumbling eventually forcing me from the bed. Someone, probably Kibum, had left a small tray of food just inside the door. The food is tasteless in my mouth, but I eat it anyway. 

    A glance out the open window suddenly makes the room feel suffocating. Ruefully noting how easy it is to slip into a new hanbok compared to my first attempt, my eyes fall on the flowers lying on the bed as I slip on the shoes by the door.

    “I should do something with you, shouldn’t I?” I ask them softly, a finger down the veins of their petals.

    Looking around, I find one of the smaller vases decorating the room and pour some of my leftover water into it, setting the flowers into it and placing it by the window.

    “This is the best I can do. Hopefully whatever sunlight gets down here is enough.”

    The need to get out of my room spikes and I hurry to the door. Peeping out, I’m little surprised when no one’s waiting outside.

    “Taemin?” I call, just in case the boy is hiding somewhere in place of Minho as my guardian.

    No one answers.

    With a half shrug, I slip out, closing the door. It’s better this way. I’m not in the mood to pretend to be all right, much less talk with anyone. Avoiding the main halls with their muffled murmur of voices, I stay to the smaller corridors, choosing turns at random without thought as to how I’ll find my way back.

    The faint smell of roses tickles my nose as I walk. I retrace my steps and go down a short hallway I’d passed, bright light at the end hinting at an open space. I peek around the corner when I reach it, giving a breath of relief when the garden proves empty as well.

    The garden itself would be worthy of the Queen of Hearts if she wasn’t such a stickler for red roses only. Orderly rosebushes with every shade of roses from the palest white to the darkest burgundy spiral to the center of the garden. There, on a small hill, a pine tree grows, its short height belying its age that’s revealed by its gnarly bark.

    Stepping on the worn smooth stones, I follow the winding path to the tree. A small smile makes it to my mouth when I discover one of the lower branches curved and supported by a stone to act as a natural bench. It gives a little as I sit, the bark surprisingly smooth as I grip it. Turning my face upward, I look at the clouds lazily passing through the blue of another sky window.

    In the tranquility of the garden, I finally let go. The thousands of memories revived from my last glimpse of home that I’d pushed back since I’d opened my eyes pour forth. I let myself remember every single one of them. My tears seem to have dried up, only a few slipping down my cheeks despite the burning pain of the clips of memory playing in my head. As I relive each memory, I tuck each away in the back of my mind, to be opened only with the utmost caution. It’s the only way I can continue living, not wasting my time as Onew’s mother had told me.

    As the last memory fades, I shiver and shift my seat, my muscles protesting after staying still for so long. The sky above me had also shifted, its bright mid-afternoon blue faded to the sleepy lavender of evening. My other senses slowly come alive again from the grasping numbness as I stand. A glint of metal that wasn’t there before catches my eye.

    A small tray rests a few feet away, partially hidden from view by the pine’s trunk. I hadn’t heard or seen anyone, which instantly made me suspicious.

    “It is not enchanted, young lady.”

    Stifling a yelp, I jump back and almost fall over the branch, searching for the voice’s source. Just down the hill, a man in simple clothes crouches with his back to me, pruning a bush of deep scarlet roses with efficient clips. His ponytail of white hair tumbles down his back from under his wide-brimmed hat.

    “Did you put it here?” I ask, watching him carefully.

    He shakes his head, cutting off a dying leaf. “No, my lady. Prince Onew did.”

    “Onew? He was here?”

    “Only for a short while. He only stayed long enough to set the tray down.”

    I stay where I am. “And how long have you been here?”
    “Long enough to tell there was something troubling you, but you were not ready to be disturbed. The prince saw as well. He asked me to tell you the food was safe, if you did stir.”

    “Oh.” Getting closer to the tray, I see the lily placed neatly on top of the fabric. Reassured, I sit down and reach for the cloth. “You’re not watching me for him, are you?”

    The old man chuckles, moving on to the next bush. “His highness does not need a gardener to do that, my lady. You simply happen to be here on the day I usually attend this garden.”

    “Am I in your way?”

    “You’re of no trouble to me. That old tree needs little tending these days,” he replies with a wave of his hand. “Not that these bones like hills much anyhow.”

    Glancing at the tray, I pick up a few pieces of fruit and start to peel an orange as I slowly make my way down the small hill. I hold the orange out when I reach the basket of discarded leaves. “Would you like share some of this with me? Onew left enough for a horse and it must be hard work taking care the gardens. I can’t imagine how many are here.”

    The gardener pauses, turning and looking at me, his eyes still hidden by his wide hat. He finally smiles and takes the orange, splitting it in two and handing half back to me. “Thank you. It is not too hard to be surrounded by beauty.”

    As we quietly eat, I notice a spare pair of pruning clippers sitting in a half-open workbasket. “May I help you with the roses?”

    “Only the foolish refuse a willing pair of hands.”

    Taking that as a ‘yes,’ I set the rest of my armful beside the basket and take the clippers, moving to the inside curve opposite the gardener. In the midst of the soothingly familiar rhythm, I can’t help admiring the healthy beauty of the roses as I search for and find few branches in need of t. When I voice said opinion as we finally meet at the row’s end, the old man smiles.

    “The king would be pleased to hear someone else appreciate his prize so.”

    I accidentally drop the clippers, luckily missing my feet. “King?”

    “Yes.” Unperturbed, he collects the tool from the ground and tucks it into his basket before looking around the garden. “He made this garden as a present for a wife who was a flower fairy in the Emperor of Heaven’s palace. Now, it’s the only garden His Majesty attends personally; it provides a simple joy for him.”

    “Oh.” I suddenly need to be anywhere but here. “Thank you for letting me help you, but would you happen to know how to get to the garden with the lilies and a small stream running through it?”

    “I do, but it is I who should be thanking you.” The gardener frowns a little, looking over the roses before cupping a deep pink rose, cutting its stem, and snapping off its thorns with efficient fingers. He offers it to me with a shallow bow. “For your help and company.”

    “I can’t, really-”

    Ignoring me, he wraps my fingers around the rose. “I have known the king a very, very long time. He would not begrudge a single flower. Beauty is to be shared. Come, I’ll show you the way.”

    He starts walking away, leaving me no other choice but to follow, rose still in hand. His way proves much shorter compared to my earlier meandering path as we reach the lily garden in no time. He stops short of entering the garden, simply looking in.

    “Thank you for bringing me back. I can find my way back to my room now,” I say. Still feeling a little guilty about my earlier abruptness, I add somewhat shyly, “I’m sorry, but I never asked your name.”

    He smiles, shaking his head. “You may simply call me Old Wang.”

    “Do you come to this part of the palace often? I would like to help garden again.”

    Old Wang nods towards the rose in my hand. “We will meet again. I am sure of it.”

    I nod and smile, giving a small wave as I step into the garden.

    “If I may say one more thing, my lady.”

    I stop and look behind me. “Of course.”

    “Please do not blame the prince. The sins of the father are not those of the child.”

    Without another word, he disappears into the shadows of the corridor before I can even open my mouth.

    Slowly, I walk away as well, absently smelling the rose as my thoughtfulness returns. I follow the garden’s border until I reach the opposite end, retracing my steps again and again. When I get tired of pacing, I sit on the nearest bench, turning my eyes to the sky. A few determined stars are beginning to faintly glimmer, taking over for the dying sunlight.

    I smile slightly, reminded of an old song about a falling star I’d learned as a child. I hum the melody, the half remembered words eventually quietly stumbling from my lips. Under my song, I hear a muffled exclamation. Recognizing the voice, but not caring, I continue singing.

    When the song ends, I close my eyes, saying, “It’s safe to come out, you know, if you’d like. I wouldn’t mind.”

    His clothes rustle in a way that let me know he’s surprised, but his face is only mildly puzzled as he emerges from the shadows to sit beside me. “How’d you know?”

    “That you were there? I heard you curse when you stubbed your foot or something.”

    “Oh,” Onew smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

    I shrug. “Most of my friends in high school were guys. I’ve heard worse.”

    I return my gaze to the stars, Onew following suite. I’m glad he doesn’t try to fill the silence as I know Kibum or Taemin would have. Some of the thoughts I’d had through the course of the day return, finally prompting me to speak first.

    “What was she like? Haeyoung.”

    Onew glances at me. “Haeyoung?”

    I nod, meeting his eyes.

    He looks back to the stars and for a minute I think he won’t answer. When he does, its slowly, as if the memories are being lovingly cherished with each word.“She loved to sing, even if she couldn’t keep in tune at all. She’d always make me sing along or afterwards, to clear the air, she’d say.”

    As Onew chuckles, a ghostly song whispers in my ear but evades my grasp. “What else?” I prompt.

    “She loved any kind of game, even made up a few of her own. She didn’t like when it rained because it reminded her of a story where the rain were the tears of a heartbroken mother. She loved spicy food even though she couldn’t eat it....You know what always amazed me?”

    I shake my head.

    “Her ability to love so unconditionally. Despite everything that had happened to her, she still opened her heart to anyone she encountered.”

    “‘Everything that had happened to her?’”

    Onew looks back at me. “You know she was a slave?”

    “Yes.”

    “Slavery is a despicable practice, a denial of a person’s humanity and the theft of free will. That alone would be reason enough for me to pity Haeyoung, but more than that, she was alone. Her mother was from a far away land and died shortly after giving birth to Haeyoung. The other slaves had as little to do with her as possible because she was different, an outsider, barbarian blood.” His disgust for those labels drips like sticky oil from his words.

    “But you didn’t pity her,” I offer, “because she didn’t let all that kill her spirit.”

    “I might have pitied her at first but yes, for that and many other reasons, I loved her. She was the most amazing, puzzling, fascinating person I’ve ever known.”

    Bringing my knees up and resting my arms on them, I hesitantly say, “I’ve never loved anyone like that, but it must’ve been ..... empty, without Haeyoung.... and hurt when I showed up and wasn’t her.”

    Tactfully, he replies, “Your arrival was a shock, to say the least.”

    “You want to know why I avoided you?” I ask abruptly. “Why I always ran away from you or when something happened to me here?”

    Slowly, as if unsure it wasn’t a trick question, Onew nods.

    “I don’t know if the others told you, but I was in a car accident when I was 17. I almost died that day. Some of the glass that gave me the scars on my back hit my spinal cord. Just a few tiny pieces, and my entire body was paralyzed. You know what the worst part was?”

    Onew shakes his head.

    “I was a prisoner in my own body. I had no control over anything, but when I was awake, I was aware of every single thing that was going on. All I could do was lie there and listen. Listen as my parents cried, as the doctors said I might never move again, let alone walk.

    They eventually figured out they’d missed a sliver of glass and once that was removed, I was able to fully recover, obviously. Ever since then though, I avoid situations where I have no control. Being brought here was like my worst nightmare; I didn’t have a choice and everything I’d planned on doing taken away in a second. I was powerless.”

    “So the accident all over again.” When I nod, he thinks for a moment before saying, “May I ask you a question?”

    “You just did, but shoot.”

    Onew’s laughter is unexpected, but the rich sound makes me smile. Trying to recapture his seriousness, he asks, “If I may know, what did you plan to do?”

    I shrug. “I suppose the usual things: travel to places I’d read about, graduate university, get my own place, become a veterinarian.”

    “You were studying to be veterinarian? A doctor for animals, correct? ”

    “Yes on both accounts. I wanted to be a one ever since I was old enough to understand what they do.”

    He nods, thoughtfully looking back up at the sky. A smile suddenly comes onto Onew’s face. “I’ve got something to show you. Come on.”

    Puzzled but curious, I accept the hand he offers to help me up and follow him to the far side of the garden. Pushing aside some high bushes, Onew reveals a tall ladder built into the wall and climbs. He gives me his hand again when I reach the top of the ladder.

    “The roof?” I ask, looking around. The rise and fall of tiles spreads in all directions, the implied size of the palace hitting me again.

    He only smiles mysteriously and winks. “Watch your step.”

    Onew keeps his grip on my hand and for a change, I’m glad; even though there’s a kind of path up here, balancing proves tricky along the narrow way. His hand isn’t as soft as I would’ve expected, patches of the rough skin of calluses rubbing not unpleasantly against my palm. As I try to imagine what work a prince would do to earn such marks when Onew stops and I almost run into his back. His other hand reaches behind to steady me. 

    “Is something wrong?” I ask.

    Onew tilts his head to the side, listening. “We have to go back one building, then turn left, where the roof flattens completely.”

     I carefully turn around and follow his instructions, halting when the roof ends, leaving only the open ocean, and look back at him in confusion. “Are you doing something dragon-y again? Because I’m sure as hell not jumping off for a swim.”

    “I guess you could say so. Sit. They’ll be here any minute,” he replies, holding my elbow to help me sit before plopping down himself.

    “They?”

    He puts a finger to his lips before closing his eyes. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he makes a long, crooning call, the sound abnormally magnified. As I watch mystified, something answers, its reply even louder than Onew’s. His smile broadening as he gives another call, he points past me. I turn my head, my breath stopping when I see the large shapes emerging from the hazy water.

    “You’ve got to be kidding me. Those can’t be...”

    Onew just smiles, his eyes twinkling.

    The largest member of the pod approaches us. The whale’s bulky body moves with an incredible grace until it reaches the barrier and lets out a sing-song greeting. 

    “Holy Hera, you are,” I breathe, slowly getting to my knees and inching to the roof edge.

    One small eye watches me, gentle, patient, and fathomless.

    “A North Pacific right whale, a whole pod of them,” I whisper. “They’re so rare.”

    “I know,” Onew answers, his mouth twitching sadly. “My father has done what he can, but his power is limited. This cow is one of the oldest; I’ve known her since she was a calf.”

    “Does she have a name?” I ask, my eyes never leaving the whale.

    “Not one you could pronounce,” he chuckles. “I suppose you could call her Grandmother. It’s a title of respect we use for the pod leaders.”

    My hands are already itching, but I restrain myself. “May I touch her?”

    Onew makes a few questioning notes, nodding after Grandmother replies. “She said yes.”

    The magic barrier stretches but gives enough so my trembling fingers break through. They meet the smooth, rubbery skin of Grandmother’s side, as I soak up the impossible, indescribable feeling. She sings again, making Onew laugh.

    When I look at him in askance, he tells me, “She asks if you can scratch the barnacle a little to your right, by her flipper. It’s been annoying her.”

    “Of course!” I find the barnacle in question and pry it off, vigorously scratching at the skin. I laugh out loud when her eye closes in pleasure.

    Something bumps my elbow and to my delight I find a calf has ventured under Grandmother’s stomach. Out of the corner of my eye I notice the other whales joining us as well.

    “I think I need another set of hands here,” I giggle, stretching out another hand to scratch the calf’s head as Grandmother obliging maneuvers out of the way.

    I scoot over so Onew can join me on the ledge. The pod members coming one by one for their own moment of bliss before grouping around Grandmother who waits a little ways off. The calf who had first come to me comes back for seconds like a spoiled puppy, bringing out more giggles.

    I sit back as the calf finally swims away, wincing at my asleep legs but not regretting it at all. “Could you tell her thank you?”

    “Of course.” He gives one last croon before copying me.

    Tearing my eyes from the retreating figures, I take a breath before saying, “Thank you too, for this. I needed it.”

    He smiles that bright smile that seems uniquely his. “I’ll let you know when she passes through again.”

    “Thank you....Onew?”

    “Yes?”

    “Can we try...just being friends? I can’t promise anything else.”

    Onew’s face goes blank before smiling widely. He nods. “I would like that.”

    I smile back and hold out my hand. When he looks at it in puzzlement, I laugh. “You shake it, to seal the deal,” I explain.

    “Oh,” he says, embarrassment faintly tinting his cheeks. 

    He slips his hand in mine and for a moment, I let my own hand linger, feeling more at peace than I have since I woke up in my palace bed.